Just Like You
by TheologyDiscography
Summary: Harry and Draco rebel against what they've always been told. Sequel is now up, Behind Blue Eyes. POV switches between Harry and Draco.


_I could be mean,_

_I could be angry,_

_You know I could be just like you_

Vernon raised his lumbering girth from the couch, swinging an angry fist at his nephew, who ducked it agilely, not even pausing in his flight to the door. Vernon landed a heavy blow on the back of the head as he wretched it open, making him tumble down the neat steps to land sprawled in the yard, wincing in pain as the loaded backpack on his back dug into his back.

'Gee, Happy birthday, Harry,' he thought ironically, picking himself up, glad that his uncle never followed him out into the yard. It wouldn't do to let the neighbors know that he regularly beat up on his nephew.

_I could be fake,_

_I could be stupid,_

_You know I could be just like you._

Petunia looked up from her precious gardens, which, along with her son, were the only thing she really seemed to care about. When she saw it was just Harry she looked down again. Though he was her beloved sister Lily's son, she wouldn't stand up to Vernon for him. If it had been Dudley, it would have been different, but so long as the image of a perfect family was kept up, she didn't care.

She didn't even look up again as he set off down the street.

_You thought you were standing beside me,_

_You were only in my way,_

_You're wrong if you think I'll be just like you._

Ron and Hermione met him at the entrance to Diagon alley.

"Harry, you really shouldn't have run away," Hermione scolded. Ron glared at her.

"If you saw how they treated him, you wouldn't be saying that Hermione," he argued. Soon they were arguing fiercely, ignoring the subject of their argument completely. Harry turned and walked away; neither of them noticed until he was long gone.

_You thought you were there to guide me,_

_You were only in my way,_

_You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you._

Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, staring into space, lost in thought. On his desk lay a letter from Harry. He had gotten it more than a week ago, but so many things had come up; he hadn't had a chance to reply. Pulling out a piece of parchment and an endless-ink quill, he began to write yet another letter ordering his student to remain with his guardians, never even realizing that Harry had already left, and was living quite comfortably in a small flat just off Diagon alley.

-

_I could be cold,_

_I could be ruthless,_

_You know I could be just like you._

Draco looked up into his father's cold eyes and repressed a shudder. Under no circumstances would he show a weakness for his father to exploit, but that didn't stop the instinctive reaction. He had been well trained to fear his father, ever since he was a small child, and he was tired of dealing with it.

"You are sure this is the course of action you wish to pursue?" his father asked, a hint of disapproval in his voice. He would not refuse, Draco knew, only because he knew Draco had spread rumors that he was controlling and trying to keep his son under his thumb since he refused to allow his son to increase his independence by moving out on his own for a time. There wasn't even a tradition that allowed him to force his son to remain home, as it was generally regarded that a young heir needed time out in the world before their inheritance or they would mismanage it once they got it.

_I could be weak,_

_I could be senseless,_

_You know I could be just like you._

Narcissa twisted a handkerchief in her lap, her only outward sign of her upset as Draco kissed her goodbye. In a lot of ways, he pitied her. She was content to allow her husband to control her life, spending her time gossiping with the other highborn ladies Lucius deemed worthy of her time, shopping, and ordering the minute details about the Manor that Lucius considered beneath his time. She had no life of her own, but she loved her son in her own way. It was tearing her up to allow him to leave, but she would never say anything against her husband's decisions.

_You thought you were there beside me,_

_You were only in my way,_

_You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you._

Pansy and Blaise walked arm in arm beside him as he walked down the street, ostensibly to help him select a nice little house to live in. In reality, they were more interested in each other than in anything to do with Draco, though a house would be very much in their interest, especially one with a bed.

About the time Blaise's tongue made it's way up Pansy's neck, Draco just walked off. He had the perfect place in mind already anyway; one sure to infuriate his father, but that had nothing he could really object to that would stand up with anyone else.

_You thought you were there to guide me,_

_You were only in my way_

_You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you._

Lucius glanced around the flat with distaste. It wasn't even a proper house, just a few interconnected rooms in a large building. Draco was sitting at the small two-person table he had set in one corner, watching his father disinterestedly.

It was a tastefully furnished living place, the furniture alone probably cost more than three months rent, but Lucius couldn't get past the fact that his son had chosen to live among others instead of in the splendid isolation that befit a Malfoy. He spun on his heel, exiting without a word.

_On my own_

_Cuz I can't take livin' with you_

_I'm alone_

_So I won't turn out how you want me to_

He noticed Potter walking down the hallway, lowered head declaring he wanted nothing to do with the world at the moment. He stopped at the next door from where Draco was locking up, touching his hand to the door to dismiss the wards he'd placed before moving to unlock it. His head snapped up suddenly, and he nodded briskly in recognition, clearly not in the mood to fight. Draco tilted his head slightly, then nodded back, deciding to respect the other's wishes. They were both 17 by now, and far to old for the schoolboy rivalry. Potter entered the flat with a slight smile, and Draco turned to walk down the hall, both still in their isolation, though they had broken it momentarily to acknowledge the other. Both were refugees from intolerable home situations, needing only the freedom to be who they wished to satisfy them, for the time being.

**_HDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHD_**

I'm about halfway through a sequl, set to 'behind blue eyes' the lyrics from the Who, not Limp Biskit. It'll probably take a while to finish though.


End file.
